


the center of many of your universes

by pyakpyaknation



Category: NCT (Band), WAYV
Genre: A lot of Implications, Drabbles, M/M, Short, lapslock, take the plotlines as you will, winwin-centered
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:14:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 9,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21844267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pyakpyaknation/pseuds/pyakpyaknation
Summary: Finally deciding to post these short works that I wrote that started last month out of a spur of inspiration. These really helped me improve myself I feel? But, yeah :)Each has their own theme and plot and they are very, very short so do mind the shortness of these because they are indeed drabbles ! If there are any triggers I will be make sure to indicate at the beginning of each story.Also, my writing is... up for you to decide if you like or not but I'd love to hear feedback and comments ~I will be updating these as I go along
Relationships: Dong Si Cheng | WinWin & Everyone, Dong Si Cheng | WinWin/Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten, Dong Si Cheng | WinWin/Everyone, Dong Si Cheng | WinWin/Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun, Dong Si Cheng | WinWin/Suh Youngho | Johnny, Dong Si Cheng | WinWin/Wong Yuk Hei | Lucas
Comments: 11
Kudos: 32





	1. dislocated (:one missing arrows)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to @MochiGang and @haolsa for being my test readers for some of these ~ I would also like to thank babu and mitch as well ~ <333

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> inspired specifically by this image https://pin.it/dwzaovwyznjs6r

he let the cigarette hang idly from his lips before it dropped on it’s own. his eyes too preoccupied in their visual receptor world, only in the glazed over film can the television static be observed. the cigarette had gone cold, and so had his fingers, numb from it

“you arent doing a very good job c,” a voice simply remarked. the dark confines of his luxurious home, now tattered to ruins held the bareness that elicited a dead aura upon the vicinity

“dont call me that,” the slumped figure said softly, out of exhaustion, in comparison to the flurry of energy he once had before. with a bow and arrow and twirl of his finger

the latter slunk through the spacious expanse to observe the state of chaos. it was horrendous, a slight unappetizing smell wafted in the air, but because of what they were, it didnt matter. especially for the bare male, whose abilities reigned lusciousness, pleasure, and all good aromatic things the like

“this is a curse.” the groggy male choked.

“well it wasn’t a blessing. it was a responsibility to be dealt with, you’re a disaster. how could this happen?” the other said astonishedly, rounding the opulent sofa the other was lifelessly immotile on. “your father, your grandfather, your-”

“i dont need another lecture kun,” the subject said coldly this time, standing his ground as he finally shifted in his position. barely making any attempts on using his legs. “don’t start me,” he huffed gently through his nostrils, eyes still lacquered in bloodshot that was unmasked in the process of his disorientated form

“i…” kun had held back his words and glanced down to look at the random disarray of pink tinged cigarettes littered on the surfaces within reach of the being. it was pathetic, and it needed to stop. the mandate needed to rule on and without the sole person in charge of putting one and one together, everything was just falling apart. just like.

“i thought it was fun. for all those 447 years of apprenticing, learning, and then following through… i could just overlook it as a job.” the god of love’s eyes drooped with deep consideration, almost as if the hearts of thousands and limitless amount of people had also broken him inside.

“it is what it is.” kun said.

“and that is… ” a rhetorical statement rolled off the broken god’s tongue. a tongue that had once been so sharp-witted and clever, it could cut a blade of grass.

“you need to get back sicheng… we.. they need you back. they’re all waiting for you,” kun proceeded in a hushed tone, eyes still still with intent. “the world isn’t complete without it.”  
he contemplated reaching out to give the lonely god a touch of support but he withheld.

sicheng said nothing to the god of creation. a god whose existence was purely lived off of people’s livelihoods and living could not experience what the god of death nor the god of sorrow nor any other god would feel (though he defiantly knew the others were well encased into their duties without a glance to spare). he supposed, no, he knew, he had succumbed to the pressures and taxes of his grand role in lives all throughout.

after what seemed like centuries, he moved. standing up with his mustered energy to move across to the other side of the room, with a grace he could not lose. burnt out used cigars fell to the floor off his lap, his feet minimally brushing against the dozens of lipstick stained ash fumed devices. he stood before an ivory curtain. a barrier between him and what was the world he knew outside.

he knew there were still shades of pink smears washed upon the lines of his cheeks, that there were still dim bags of violet clinging under his phoenix eyes, and dead skin flaking along his phalanges- waiting to be brushed.

the vivid recollections of broken eye contact, quick closed mouths, stiff necks, and hands pulling away reminded him of people in a line. profiles dusted in his bureau now, manila folders stretching from wall to wall in similar fashion, red ink and blue ink, and pins and tacks to keep them intact, carefully flicked his memory.

the lovers he had to separate and lovers he had to connect, lovers he found himself forbiddenly inching towards.

he realizes that watching is a sport, a game, that only the truest brave soul could endure. but he wasn’t one, and he wasn’t the cupid that he once thought he was.


	2. 24/7 (going crazy, dying slowly)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> babu ღ was here first ; title song insp

sicheng let himself be consumed in the moment. hands around jaehyun’s neck as they continued their lip-locking activity passionately on the couch. work and any other productive efforts cast aside instead devoted to their lust.

he threaded his slender fingers into jaehyun’s hair. it wasn’t as long as yuta’s, nor clean cut like youngho’s.

he let himself smile into jaehyun’s small cheek indent, his cute dimples. it wasn’t as deep as kun’s but it wasn’t too superficial like yukhei’s.

jaehyun’s deep rumbling laugh reacted to sicheng’s cute gesture whilst his sculpted hands continued their way down sicheng’s broad back. hands not as meticulous as mark’s and teasing like ten’s.

sicheng pressed himself closer towards jaehyun in hidden desperation for _more._ more-

they both moaned in unison at the slightest friction and jaehyun’s hands quickly tugged sicheng’s shirt off while sicheng tried his best to continue pressing kisses against jaehyun’s nicely carved jawline. not as sharp as taeyong’s but sleek enough to be distinct from doyoung’s.

he felt his hands instinctively reach under the latter’s loose shirt to chase after his high leading him to discard his shirt in the process. jaehyun gently maneuvered sicheng to lay down on his back as he moved down to his jugular to make heart-racing marks. ones that he knew would leave a dark mark for the days to come. not as light as jungwoo or hidden as taeil.

sicheng felt serotonin coursing through his veins as he let jaehyun do what he was doing so well. feeling useless at the moment, he started stimulating the other male by using his nimble fingers to play with a nipple and slightly twist it in his fingers. jaehyun bit down particularly hard and groaned.

they continued getting it on, all work placed at the bottom of their priorities.

and slowly, as time crept on, they both ended up sleepily dozing off on the now soiled couch. but sicheng had less to care about the old piece of furniture then what had just happened. the waning gibbous shot its light through the kitchen window. only the soft sound of jaehyun’s breathing slumber could be heard.

and then his phone buzzed. he pulled the spare blanket around his shoulders to shield himself from the chill and he reached for the phone to be greeted brightly by the blue light. _are you busy? can we meet up? i miss you_

as he began to type, jaehyun’s arm shifted to wrap itself around sicheng’s firm torso and pull him closer. he blushed and sighed.

double-checking the time on his phone he saw it was close to 4 am.

_yeah, i’ll be out in five._

sicheng reluctantly-so got up and carefully moved so that he wouldn’t wake jaehyun. he tip-toed around the scattered items on the floor, “why do you keep going?” a sleepy voice called out.

he froze in his steps, shirt going over his arms. “am i not enough?” the voice went on, sleepiness slowly slipping away. “we repeat this everytime and you refuse to acknowledge anything…” there it was again. desperation in jaehyun’s voice. the same pleading voice to keep him there.

the escaping male swallowed the stone that kept returning to his throat each time this happened. every single damn time.

“you know how it is jae..” he would almost stutter if he continued, he tied his shoelaces.

rustling in the background indicated that jaehyun had begun to dress himself as well. he really needed to go now-

as he straightened up and stood up a warm hand grabbed his wrist in the moment. about to protest dignitantly he was engulfed into a back hug. pressed back against the safe warmth of a familiar body who undoubtedly brought him satisfaction and sincerity, he broke free.

“i have to go,” he mumbled before exiting and closing the door behind, a chill crawling on his skin; in a hall with no windows. no draft in sight, only quiet sighs.


	3. bandage up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> boxing!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I watched some boxing match videos for some references so not all are accurate here (go manny pacquiao)

sicheng tugged the bandage through his teeth to tighten it around his left hand. he could hear the adrenaline running inside his body and in his periphery. crowds were roaring up outside. he bit down on his mouthguard

he hastily put on his gloves and got up just as his coach burst through the locker room, “you’re up next dong.”

“yes sir.”

he shook his tousled hair and headed out. tonight’s match was one he had been inherently avoiding but his career took him this way. up. _and the only way from here was-_

sicheng followed his coach and the surrounding bodyguards through the concrete halls, the sound of commotion grew louder as he approached what would be the stage or, the canvas, the place to be on friday nights at 9. there’s frankly no where else he’d rather be but throwing punches and raising his glove in victory.

nothing much else to say there.

the smell of body odor, cheap snacks, green bills, and soaring spirits flooded his nose before it proliferated into his other senses. his fists jittered in excitement, itching for a surface to crash on. he bit his lip unconsciously as he made his way up to the shining square platform.

oh, except for the last minute peptalk yell from coach. “i want you to make sure to focus on…” yeah that stuff didn’t change- not the advice, but rather the procedure he needed to go through to secure a win. the announcer’s voice echoed in the crowded arena lining the achievements of each fighter.

“we have wong yukhei coming through now, world middleweight champion, he’s going on to defend his title…”

he gulped and his eyes dilated for a second. he was then called for and he confidently raised his head up, shoulders back, eyes gleaming with intensity.

“dong sicheng, the 7th division world champion, reigning an impressive title of the world champion in…” ducking under the red, white, and blue ropes and shaking his arms loose as he focused on his opponent. he sucked in his breath.

just then, the mc stepped out into the ring to commence the profile readings. he blinked his eyes a few times, heart racing in laps around his chest already. it’s the same every time, but it doesn’t change the fact that he goes all out (only in the spiritual sense). he knows how to maximize his energy when he needs to.

“in the white corner, an ex-lover, hailing from the depths of his submerged memories, raised and born in hong kong. weighing in on most of his daily conversations about whether or not they should eat out or not, he who once held his heart while working his way up the hierarchy, ladies and gentlemen, please welcome the champion with the longest title of breaking hearts, introducing the undeniably charming and undefeated, wong yukhei!” the words filtered out by themselves and sorted into each sentence that bellowed out of the mc’s mouth.

the bell rang twice. round 1.

it was a good thing he bandaged the hand he once wore a silver ring on because tonight was the night.


	4. save me save you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> androids, half-androids, and human world  
> i interpreted the baby as renjun 🥺

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to use a song title inspiration again and thought this might fit nicely! -> WJSN [Save me, Save you](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2wOBbRu3OOc)

he tightly clutched the small bundle to his chest as he heard multiple footsteps round the corner.

_he had to make it alive. him and the baby-_

loud bangs firing in the distance startled the small human being in his arms. knowing what was to come next, he shot out from behind the dumpster and dashed for it.

“there he is! get him!”

“he has the prototype! catch him!”

sicheng ran as fast as he could through the streets, baby still tightly secure in his arms as he ducked in and out of figures monotonically walking against his escape track. breathes coming in and leaving each time his foot touched the drab sidewalk.

“corner him!”

sicheng increased his pace to his ultimate maximum, sobs creeping out from his deeply distressed face. he could not go back- “get-!”

he took the chance to glimpse back but before he knew it he was surrounded in the middle of the city’s plaza. heavily armed officials circled and started closing in on him, pedestrians weaved out calmly and sicheng’s heart sunk. as if the world was any less crueler than as it was.

he started counting his prayers when he bumped into someone. defensively, he backed away and tensed up, baby still close to his half-beeping heart. _there, there. at least i tried._

“hey,” a warm voice reached out to him. sicheng warily glanced up, still ever increasingly frazzled about the encroaching officers. “who-” his voice broke as the mysterious man suddenly extended his arms to pull him close and shield him.

“now, there’s no way to treat a human be-”

“he’s not human! he’s melded!”

sicheng flinched at the insult and his bionic fingers twitched as a fleshed hand grabbed his reassuringly.

“he’s with me.”

“are you unaware that right now he is in possession of our m-”

“i’m sure you all have somewhere to be. should i have a few words?” the man’s threat carried on eloquently whilst holding sicheng closer. sicheng was confused at what and why this man was doing what he was to protect sicheng. for all he knew, he could be using him as bait or something.

but he was just glad it would delay the unfortunate fates of both him and the baby. just a couple of unfortunates that’s all. he’s already come to accept it now. the people once after him now finally backed away and left reluctantly with sneers on their faces.

“are you okay?” sicheng this time took the chance to observe the man’s handsomeness, small face and a cute short philtrum. maybe his heart was a little bit at ease, but distrust lingered. but…  
“y..eah,” he enunciated slowly.

“that’s good. can you trust me?” he treaded cautiously, understandably. sicheng blinked, before the man’s hand gave sicheng’s own a squeeze. if this man could hold a piece of mechanic _him…_ then...

just then, a baby’s cry interrupted his train of thought. the sound wakened him to the cold city naturally unwinding in chilly air that stayed all their lives.

surprised by the sudden sound, they both peered down at the baby who had woken up and was shivering from the thin blanket.

“i..”

“i trust you,” sicheng said softly, this time desperately squeezing the human’s hand back.


	5. adieu; in lieu of

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i don't specify his lover, purely ambiguous aside a facial feature.  
> Purely inspired by his [Simon Says VCR apparel](https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/1tsjUOv6HVi5Nk4tVp4us-vCmXkEf7Z1Z8JK2cB484j-SeytkzXeS3Y6CQKUKei3IMHnu8kzpcKOWLscrjQOCwnICX9ojLoiFA=w1600-rj), and the video link for the [KPMA VCR](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6UNODKQSxyg).

a man graciously cloaked himself in a white robe with ivory lace embroidery on the linings of the luxurious fabric. the sleeves just dropped below his hands at the right length along with a hood that dropped back down to his shoulders. he’s no stranger to the attire.

the man has had kept an eye on the attire with patience; the ceremony, an even bigger part, and bigger ending- an ending that he was very adamant about taking.

he had already bid his parting wishes to the best of his ability to the person who he was taking place of in the coming hours.

their title and place as upper nobles within reach of the royal court, had bestowed them with the favor of the gods, inviting them with open arms. he saw through the beckoning finger that his family so much so went on their knees for. but he was a fool and he was not. seven months have passed and the eighth full moon approached the prim town with ever calming winds and high tides.

his sister was to be sacrificed at the altars of the all-knowing atop the hill which held the holiest temple as far as man’s horizon expanded (he was also no fool to the blatant discrimination in society). but, revolutionary reform would be owed to the sacred ceremony that would take place soon, a ceremony that would take the person he loved and protected most. and he could not allow it to happen.

seven months it took to plan the elaborate lies and ornate scheme of his greatest ambition to mask what he was about to do. 

it is why he sent his secret lover out on a white promise to take his sister to see the cottage he had asked to be built by the seaside, a two hour gallop with a few guards following behind. and it is why he knows he tries hard to hide the pang in his chest now.

it is a pang that resonates with the vibration of a gong, echoing into his deepest scepticisms and worry. for he must not be caught nor must he not let himself get carried away by commitments he knows will soon long be behind him. and fortunately not to his grave eternally.

the reinstated sacrifice that the town implements every auspicious astronomical observation that he had already calculated tentatively, was no surprise now, a hoax. he did not doubt the stars to which he believed gave birth to everyone’s being, but he doubted the cost of a sacrifice as a gift to the gods. it just was not necessary. and he knew this… because he was a son of a god. the irony striking him boldly, the only taste of blood in the act of biting of his own tongue.

he knows that this is it.

he prepares to be ready as he slips on the plain white head cloth to cover his head and soon after the lavish crystalized jewel mask to cover his identity.

and now, he is set.

he turns to look outside of the lonely cobble-stone window, the sky is indigo and it is speckled with twinkling lights light years aways but keen to his fingertips. he knows that his sister will have enjoyed the fastidious winds and warmth that the little house by the sea brought. he knows that his lover, who tragically lives unknowingly, watches over her with a soft smile, dimple imprinted in his cheek.

but least of all

his sister’s name is called then and he marches out with dignity and elegance. no one suspects anything. traces of his existence will be erased the dawn that escorts out the dark sky. he makes the treacherous trek up to the temple that was built eons ago for the heavens.

he counts down the time until the marble doors are pushed open for him to enter alone. a quick blessing by the priest sends him off and a dip of the head conveys understanding. he must not disappoint his family tonight, one over another.  
he bites his tongue tightly.


	6. not a love game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i was thinking about [Love Game by Jinbo](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pL-ovWt_o-c), the lyrics don't really align but the title does welp

“agent d, do you have your sights set on 4:00.”

“if i had eyes in the back of my head i would.”

he could sense an eye roll on the other line.

“yeah, i do agent kq. thanks.”

“just watch out for abraxan slinking around the dining room. we’ve got full hands today. good luck d-d.”

he resisted the quirk from the relaxed position of his lips. conceal, he repeats to himself.

“copy.”

it doesn’t take long for him to spot another target intruding on his task. maybe not as stunning as the vault he knew that was tucked behind a velazquez painting sitting in the owner’s master bedroom within the 13,000 square foot parameter. easy peasy.

the job kept getting easier for him, if he had to be honest. but there was no one he’d rather not be honest to then the other figure, exchanging handshakes and photogenic smiles with guests.

ugh, a social butterfly as always.

“let’s not get caught up now. i know he looks appetizing in that suit but head over to the servants quarters and move upstairs while mr. friendly helps keep the crowd entertained.”

“pft.”

it didn’t take him long to creep pass the temporarily disabled security systems and enter the code meticulously with gloved hands.

“9-0-0-3-4-5-1-2-0-7-8-6-2. too easy.” he took what he needed and quickly escorted himself out of there.

bounding back into the still fully occupied foyer as if he hadn’t just snatched a valuable gem from a gloated man’s possessions, he got to release a sigh of relief.

“not so fast there d, there’s-” loud static interrupted communication and he jerked his head at the sudden surprise, hand immediately flying up to deactivate the earpiece for the time being.

“hey there stranger.”

just fucking great. he had to fucking deal with his fucking ex of a fucking partner and once upon a fuck boyfriend.

“sorry, can’t talk right now-”

“i’m sure kun still finds that useful from time to time.”

“go chat with your affiliates why don’t you.”

“oh si-”

“don’t call me by my name anymore.” he brushed him off one last time as he exited the party. love was overrated.

a fool is someone who once was and the latter is still none the wiser.  
fortunately, he wasn’t the second of the options.


	7. end scene

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tw // harm, suicide

there isn’t one ounce of doubt in his body that he feels any regret for what he’s done. to himself and to the other.

he feels as if there is no way to pour out the words he’s been holding captive for for what seems like an eternity in a world where it can never exist.

and that, is why he is running. it seems to be the solution to all his problems. he doesn’t need to open up a textbook to know that the solution he produces is not in the back of the book.

he knows that by turning away he loses an opportunity to reveal himself, only his true self. he knows by letting them walk away he loses the chance to prove himself worthy of misconceptualized reasonings.

he knows that by erasing unpleasant memories, he doesn’t need to do all of that. he can simply just live continuously moving across a pedestrian crosswalk. footsteps that echo and reverberate the consequences of his actions and an invisible cape that slides his regrets over his shoulder and the pavement. leaving no mark on the ground for the next car to run over.

it’s not that he doesn’t want to say it, but he can’t. there is an insistent refusal to admit and a deep persistence to recognize new paths that will open up for him to meet new people.

but it comes with a cost when his heart breaks until there is no way for reversal. shards smaller than shards that once completed the gaps that can be seen when held up to the light. it’s not something he is proud of but he accepts anyway. he goes anyways and leaves behind what could have and what would be a future he doesn’t want to think about.

always about living life to the fullest he thinks that the irony that is the fear of missing out is hitting him strong like the wind blasting against the side of his face.

sicheng’s hair blows haphazardly in the wind and the tips of his fingers itch for a comforting fabric. his clothes no longer provide that. they’ve all been through what he’s been through. there are loose threads and small concaves where hooks have long left their marks begging him to stay. it’s all there.

he no longer feels like the luxury his beauty once appealed is there anymore. now the dim dullness attracts a story that craves for acceptance and confidence. but he quietly cries out on the inside. the war that his own insides are waging, tugging and pulling from different sides of his hollow vessel. the waves that rough him on the outside also sandpaper him within. it hurts.

sicheng wishes he could stop his muscles from moving forward. farther away from his destination and closer towards a harbor of angst that awaits him when his anchor drops to the shallows and he’s grasping for a ledging to refuel his efforts to keep going. it’s a never ending cycle. hopeless. futile. forlorn. dejecting. ceaseless.

it takes him a while to realize that his steps have halted before his own vehicle whilst his heart continues to beat tirelessly against the bone cage it is forever enclosed in. very much like himself

without much further thought, he climbs inside and turns the ignition on. the car starts to life and the blinking seatbelt light flashes at his occipital lobe but he doesn’t blink back at it and instead pulls out of the 9x18 space and swerves to wherever he deems suitable next.

the speedometer matches the force of his foot on the accelerator. he lets out a laugh that matches his soul. he hears sirens that match the screaming inside his head. _he’s really given up._ he presses harder against the pedal and his body jerks forward.

he looks into the rearview mirror and just as he has always imagined, his tears match the pain he’s inflicted.


	8. 춥다, 차갑다

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tw // mentions of blood, slight ? gore
> 
> two different words for cold in Korean, first is for the weather and the second for someone's personality. no specific other character.

“you’re going to catch a cold babe.”

“no i’m not!” he chortles, running ahead.

_Only if you’re going around and collecting a jar of hearts you will._

he could taste the irony on his tongue as he accidentally bit down too hard and clumsily bumped into a water fountain.

“woah, you okay there babe? i told you could get sick,” his boyfriend says softly, catching up to pull him back onto the asphalt pathway. it’s a gentle act of affection but sicheng’s in it for the long haul. or rather, short haul.

he lets out a charming laughter, a natural reaction that he now has long conditioned himself to upchuck in situations like these.

and it always works. he’s had his fair share of boyfriends to grisly attest to that at their final scene on earth.

“babe~” he cooes back, hand moving downward to entangle their fingers together. “i told _you_ i wont~ you know i’m warm all the time,” a sick lie for reptilian like behavior; warmth coursing through his veins at the end of every job.

“mmm~ you say that but i see you sniffling sometimes,” his boyfriend responds, tugging him along the wide path, dusted with snow.

this is his job. he is a demon from below the depths and his heart is a bloodthirsty furnace. he takes what they give to him naïvely and feeds the fire to fuel his desires. it’s what he does.

they start to skip together before slowing down to a tranquil pace of bumping shoulders and hand squeezing.

he’s done this a million times (maybe not exactly). he knows the drill and the protocol and the steps.

“i love you,” his loved one blurts out, cheeks growing warm as a smile blooms upon his face.

sicheng’s heart skips joyfully. reaffirming words ensure that the night will go smoothly. he’s no stranger to sinister yet he craves an attention that is sickly and sweet. it crawls on his human epidermis and scales up his throat with its ruthless claws before entering inside of him and descending into the black cavern they call an amygdala

“i love you, too,” he answers back in a peachy tone; he doesn’t really mean it, of course.

after all what’s said and done, sicheng still steps back from his ravaging and takes a minute to digest (mentally). from childhood throughout his adolescence, it was ingrained upon him to do a deed that involved blood, pumping organs, and connivingness. he always wanted to grow up on the right path: halo ring, warm hands, and emotional holography that boggled his mind.

he laughed at his own foolishness, so young and gullible.

he tries to obliviate the nights when putting his hands into someone else’s chest gave him long trauma that sometimes made it hard to properly maneuver the vessel out of the body’s cavity. but it grew on him eventually and he learned to deviously succeed in efficiently removing a heart out from a chest through the protective force field of calcium.

“thank you for loving me then baby,” his boyfriend continues, eyes radiating happiness.

a small spark inside sicheng’s mind lingers on the sight before dying out quickly through the subtle sigh he lets out.

“no, i have to really thank you my love. you bring light to me everyday,” he giggles cutely. something that he happened to develop naturally and came to notice after being complimented by his 58th boyfriend (or somewhere around there).

in the moment, his boyfriend giggles too, lighter flickering in the gusty storm he braves. it’s disgusting he repeats to himself like a mantra.

the jar he lugs around wanes and weakly tinkles as he walks proudly into his game. and that’s when he noticed the bad sign. a sign that there lies a fine dangerous gamble especially in uncharted territory that he has no control or _lust for_. in retaliation, sicheng obsessively yearns for more to fill his fair share to regain that sound of mirth and blithe that always sings him to sleep.

the sanguineous beauty still lulls his greed and gluttony but he staggers. it’s when he denies and refuses, thrashing in his luxurious position that sicheng counts the days until he finally catches a cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> inspired by the famous lyrics from christina perri's jar of hearts:  
> 
> 
> "Who do you think you are?  
> 
> 
> Runnin' 'round leaving scars  
> 
> 
> Collecting your jar of hearts  
> 
> 
> And tearing love apart  
> 
> 
> You're gonna catch a cold  
> 
> 
> From the ice inside your soul,"


	9. curious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i am no polygot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let's just say i had the prompt idea "dating different people to be multilingual and then dumping them until one day..." feat. miami johnny

living life as player wasn’t entirely in his line of sight, youngho thinks as he casually slinks an arm around his vietnamese girlfriend.

“bạn có đói không?” he says, shades perched on his nose bridge, smile playing on his lips when his girlfriend responds with an innuendo.

living life as a player wasn’t entirely in his line of sight, but he thinks that picking up languages along the way isn’t such a bad trade-off.

“qu’est-ce qu’il ya?” youngho asks walking after his soon-to-be ex-girlfriend.

“qu’est-ce qu’il ya? tu te fous de ma gueule johnny!?" she yelled at him angrily as she walked towards her car.

youngho flinched slightly and sped up his pace, “attendez! chloe! je peux explique-!”

“explique? arrête ton char! il n'y a rien à dire johnny. au revoir,” she says promptly, slamming the car door and starting the ignition before driving away.

“oh.. chloe..” he says exasperatedly.

“merci pour le français,” he hums woefully before picking up a call after.

“alô? vincente?” he laughs charmfully, running a hand through his hair as his eyes gazed at the road his ex just left on.

“seis e meia?” youngho continues turning to go back inside his house.

he’s got quite the reputation after a while. as in 6 different people all within three months. but it doesn’t really bother him.

spanish, vietnamese, japanese. french, portuguese, and polish.

he’s also increasing his list of languages that he’s managed to learn within each relationship. if it weren’t for his enthusiasm and a little mix of lust, he wouldn’t have been able to get this far, he thinks. life’s been alright “fooling around,” and he’s definitely not going to stop now. especially with a streak to score of.

youngho is in the supermarket at the moment, deciding between which brand of cereal he should get: frosted flakes on the left hand or honey nut cheerios on the right? balancing the two boxes in his hands he’s about to place the frosted flakes on the shelf when a figure emerges from his periphery and grabs a box of his rejected choice.

slender fingers place the bright blue box with the prominent tiger cartoon character on the front into a shopping cart.

his eyes can’t help but follow as his heart beats fast. a beautiful male with hands matching his physique and light brunette hair faded into blond falling down onto his small face and apple cheeks.

“nihao?” he blurts subconsciously.

“eh?” the stranger says turning to him to give a distrusting look. “who are you?” he asks cautiously.

“maybe your next date,” youngho responds automatically. immediately the latter’s eyes narrow and distrusting morphs to disgusted.

“i know who you are around here neighborhood player. if you think you’re going to learn any chinese with me by manipulating me at your expense, you’re just about as stupid as you can be.” the man snapped, “goodbye and dont follow me,” he snips, rolling his cart away.

“wait-”

youngho hastily tried catching up with the intriguing male. _did my reputation grow that big already?_

“i’m being genuine-”

“don’t make me call security on you.” the male says sternly, face strictly facing forward.

“i actually really want to know you-” youngho says quickly, trying to match his pace, weaving in and out of people in the aisle.

finally they’re at the end.

“yeah, well i sure do know i don’t,” the latter says irritated.

he takes a moment. he knows if he pushes any further than it might be his last chance.

“sorry for bothering you. have a nice day,” he says apologetically.

with that, the male just continues on without a word.

 _dammit._ that didn’t work out as much as he hoped, but what can he do… he never usually gets ignored like this. and that is probably why he was now even more compelled to go after the attractive guy. but, there was something in that held him back in his spot before he headed towards the cashiers.

in one week, youngho had not touched tinder or dmed anyone on instagram nor did he go out to any clubs or the local parties that he usually frequented. it was unusually quiet and off of him to not be hooking up with someone from the other side of the world. to not have his tongue intermixing with a tongue that spoke with different intonations and accents.

still it was and youngho had instead kept himself busy with work and studies, deleting messages his phone alerted him of.

in two weeks, youngho’s body felt weird. it didn’t feel odd that he wasn’t in the heat of the moment anymore or lurking by bars with eyes knowing what he wanted next. and he felt like who he was before he adopted his infamous title.

“don’t be afraid to catch feels ~” he sang under his breath, grooving to the pop hit as he walked out of starbucks heading down to the park to study for his next exam in macro.

surprise no surprise, he found a correlation between fooling around and his grades and now he was back on the bright side. his reputation still held some tenacity to it but at least the international students weren’t completely avoiding him now.

“ride, drop, top, and chase thrills ~”

rumors went around of course wondering why he wasn’t posting ‘fuckboi’ pics on snapchat anymore and if he had gotten hacked. he realized then after having to explain his situation several times to some friends that maybe it wasn’t so bad- having to diffuse his name back to neutrality.

“i know you ain’t afraid to pop pills-”

“i’m pretty sure i am. to a certain degree,” a uniquely familiar voice piped from near him as he entered the park.

sun shined down on the boy’s melanin skin and shadows fell in between all the crevices of his pretty face.

“hey?”

“no nihao today?” the still unnamed man presses lightly.

youngho thinks for a minute as he comfortably lets the boy tag along to his destination, a spot located not far from a few apple trees.

he shakes his head and chuckles naturally, “no, but maybe what’s your name?”

“sicheng. but you can call me win if that’s a little much for you to trip over,” sicheng says smiling knowingly.

youngho sets his backpack down with his coffee and they settle down. he lets out a small laugh, “no, it’s no problem at all sicheng.”

“so..”  
“so..?”

“the last line of the chorus?” sicheng presses, laying down to bask in the afternoon sun.

“mmm.. i’m not sure,” he responds, smile playing on his lips as he goes to open his notes. he hears a cute laugh and he thinks that living life as a player was most definitely not in his line of sight. not anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> inspired by the same song that inspired the agent drabble, love game by jinbo


	10. wanna be on top

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> interesting afterthought: take all of these scenes at your discretion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes, iconic antm line

it’s not the first time he’s not being ogled behind a 28-70 mm lens of a sony a7 III. and it kind of disappoints him in a way.

he brings a finger up to pull his lower lip down slightly; it’s part of the pose but he can see the photographer’s chest still in the midst of a breath before quickly releasing. the shutter goes off. he has that effect sometimes.

“move your arm back a little,” he commands as he crouches to a lower angle to capture the image.

sicheng tugs on the collar of his black turtleneck and tilts his head up as a couple more shutters follow, flash temporarily blinding him for split seconds.

he hadn’t noticed (after not being able to flirt with him) that the photographer had lowered the camera and sent a small smile, “outfit change. see you in 5.” he sent a small wink sicheng’s way before stepping off the set.

a blush crept up his face in naivete. _it worked._

and yeah he found himself later almost meeting him halfway in the hallway beside the vending machine but he simply strutted away in a manner that he knew that would have him asking for more.

when he leaves the shoot, he can feel the dark eyes of the photographer following him like the lens of a camera. there isn’t anything to worry though, because when he leaves the premise his front pocket shields the dent of the photographer’s number. _Johnny suh xxx-xxx-xxxx_

likewise, he knew that the Johnny Suh was chuckling at the sticky note he left by his tripod: _smd next time_

-

the next occasion is at a premier grand opening of a bedazzling jewelry store inside one of the prominent shopping centers in the region by a new brand name sicheng forgets as he poses next to glass cases of sparkling morganite necklaces and opal encrusted watches. _that was new._

he is sponsored to promote the first line of precious gems and designs named _floral-lee_ , which includes very attractive accessories incorporated with prominent different shiny flowers in it.

he peers over a glass case of rings as flashes pull shadows north and he remembers to maintain a good image by putting on a small smile here and there. sicheng is really invested in each jewelry before he’s being tugged over to model by various jewel-colored chokers.

“1, 2, 3-” shutters roll in and it never fails to make him feel somewhat enclosed. but thankfully it’s over in a hot minute and he’s set free to wander around more.

so, he does that.

he can’t help but to find himself overlooking the rings from earlier. eyes glued on each intricate detail, the placement of gems, and color harmony manifesting itself into a hoop that yearned for the presence of someone’s digit.

“like them? they actually took me the longest to create,” a peculiar voice speaks into his periphery, causing him to quickly look over to the voice. a short man with black hair parted and side swept over a diamond face and what he can’t help but slightly be absorbed to the dozens of metal pieces clinging to both of the man’s ears.

“10. there’s ten of them,” he smiles softly at him, hand hovering over his right ear.

sicheng blushed and quickly bowed to greet the obvious man of the event, hand extended to shake the designer’s hand. “sorry for staring, i didn’t really-”

“it’s okay. i don’t usually mind, especially if its from someone like you,” he says with a subtle smirk that makes sicheng squirm.

“i’m ten, it’s nice to officially meet the person who’s going to do a fabulous job at showcasing my work.” again, the small hinted curve of his lips was there. the compliment sent shivers down his spine.

“dong sicheng. winwin is what i go by most,” he says returning the gesture.

something in the glint in ten’s eyes tells him he’s going to have to get used to being called.

-

sicheng flops down on the sofa and he contemplates taking a nice long-needed nap. it’s 1:27 pm and he groans, throwing an arm over his eyes. shoot- he forgot to take off his makeup.

he felt a pack of makeup wipes land on him.

“thanks,” he mumbled, removing his arm to sit up and begin the cleansing process.

“you’re home early?” his cousin says between the crunch of frosted flakes.

“yeah, well the last shoot got postponed till later tonight at 7,” he sighed, wiping at the eyeliner smudge on his left eye.

“oo-kay,” the latter commented continuing to munch away. he could spot his cousin scrolling through his phone.

“what are you looking at?”

“new ideas for my next art project in drawing class. the theme is minimalism and music, which isn’t so bad- say sicheng gege…” he says coming to a pause, testing a glance over at sicheng, who was now up and stretching.

“mm?”

“since your next shoot is at 7, you wouldn’t mind coming to my figure drawing class to be my model would you?” the boy asks sincerely.

“huh? oh-” sicheng walks over to the counter where his cousin is currently finishing his cereal and lays his head in his arms. “what?”

“class is at two.. and the professor picks random people in our class to bring someone in for class and i got picked today,” the student says diligently.

“renjun..”  
“yes gege?”

“does this involve clothing?”

“er.. yes and.. no- but today we’re working on portraits,” renjun continues, taking a pause to look into his cousin’s eyes.

“pleeeasee-”

“fine,” the model sighs, flinching at the other’s shout of triumph.

“well, in that case, we should be leaving now!” renjun exclaims, going over to place his bowl into the sink and dashing to his room to retrieve his things.

sicheng didn’t budge from his spot and let out a long yawn. for his cousin, the fat nap could be saved for later.

-

the music muffled against the sound of commotion out by the catwalk. sicheng pouted.

“i hate this song,” he mumbled to himself as the makeup artist continued to apply glitter and small jewels beneath his waterline.

“in fact, i hate the whole playlist tonight. i can’t believe i’m going to have to endure it for another 20 minutes,” he sighed.

“you know how routine goes, okay you’re done,” the stylist said, dismissing him for another model.

sicheng got up and let his eyes wander around before his steps hurried to exit the big room.

“hey, babe,” accompanied by a low chuckle resonated in the space shared by both their bodies as two large hands came to hold his waist.

“hey,” sicheng said with a wide smile as his arms reached to encircle around the other model’s neck.

“how have you been?”

“i missed you,” sicheng says in a small voice, fingers playing with the fine hairs on the back of his boyfriend’s neck.

his boyfriend wasted no time and leaned in to press soft kisses against his lips. sicheng let his hands run up his boyfriend’s sides, feeling his bare skin pulsing underneath his touch.

they continued for a while in the desolate corridor, not escalating too quickly as they savored each other in the short moment before-

“lucas! winwin!! backstage and ready in two!!” a frustrated voice yelled causing them to quickly detach from each other leaving both of them flustered.

the pair noticed that each other’s lips were still wet and plump from all the kissing and they both giggled, hands hovering over each other.

“we should go,” sicheng whispered against lucas’s lips, pecking him before pulling away as his hand slipped into his boyfriend’s, quickly leading them to their final destination.

he didn’t have to look back to know that he was grinning widely. but that was only because he was sporting one as well. even over the ridiculous choice of songs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> insp. at first by sicheng in dream launch teaser, then ten's ambition for a jewelry line, art design/school renjun, and just wincas models. johnny's camera is actually the one he uses irl! this thread was interesting and helpful 
> 
> https://twitter.com/yesgraphy/status/1043361214422638592?s=20


	11. (action;) the way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> insp. by action! by dpr live :P

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> double update because i actually wrote these a while back, way back, but i didn't post them ;w; enjoy both!

maybe it’s the way he sits laid back. or the way he grins cheekily sometimes. or runs his hand through his flowy hair.

sicheng just can’t seem to find one aspect he wants to journal that day.

“whaat are you writing??” his friend pokes, curious voice growing louder as it encroaches his periphery.

“bfdkfbf!” he sputters as he slams his journal close with a wham. luckily it doesn’t cause a stir around them.

“first of all, how did you manage to say that out loud-? and what can you possibly be hiding from me? another entry on jo-” sicheng quickly clasped his hand over the latter’s mouth before he completed the forbidden sentence.

“shhh! he’ll hear us…” sicheng muttered with eyes wildly looking around. no stir again. thank god.

“please. you know he always has airpods in so he can’t hear shiiit,” his friend scoffed finally removing sicheng’s hand from his mouth. “bleh.”

“who knows!” sicheng says in a hushed exclamation. in fact, he really had no problem because the man that he was keenly admiring was approximately 98 yards away in a cafe enjoying his nice iced americano with cream and sugar. grande.

“this is why boss assigned you on the take-out missions and not this kind of take...” his friend sighs hopelessly, dragging a hand across his face as he picks a piece of lint off his jacket.

“whatever ten,” sicheng giggles in response. it’s an inappropriate reaction and he shouldn’t be giggling but he’s currently crushing hard on his client who he’s been tasked to protect from rival agencies trying to recruit him for their dirty prospects.

“ _whatever ten_ ,” his partner mimics while rolling his eyes and taking a sip from his iced tea. he makes a sour face.

-  
wherever he goes, it seems sicheng cannot escape the infamous “oh what high school do you attend?” question and today is no exception.

not when he’s sweating bullets, lining up to enroll into the graduate program to be closer to his client. it’s not the program he’s worried about (he’s well versed in pharmaceutics for sure, with more than a little hand in working in the toxicology department with hendery), it’s about confronting his client up front for real. _personal-_ suddenly the blaring tune of a kpop anthem shakes him and everyone in the vicinity. they should be blessed- he thinks for the split second before he drops his manila folder onto ground.

“fuckfuckfuck-”

everyone is staring at him wordlessly as he struggles to shove everything back into the folder.

“here,” a deep gentle voice says, handing him his resume.

he looks up and stumbles back on his butt sillily, shock reigning in his pupils as he gasped. “dongdong? what’s taking so long?” the voice of his annoying friend through the phone muffled from the ground. he doesn’t hesitate to press the red button.

“oh, are you okay?” his client says, extending his other hand to help him up from the ground.

it’s the way that his honey brown eyes crinkle or his deep soft voice crawls on your skin or the way his big hands hand him the files he-  
“thank you,” he says flustered, accidentally snatching the folder from the man himself. “sorry,” he says quickly under his breath as he takes his outstretched hand and rises up. he suddenly feels self-conscious.

“no problem stranger~” johnny says. he doesn’t realize his eyes have been glued to looking anywhere but up and by that he means staring at his chest. “is there something on my chest?” johnny chuckles, touching it slightly.

“oh-uh- no! i’m sorry- i just-” he shuffles closer to the correct office when he manages to finally make eye contact.

and truth be told, it is the way his eyes-

 _eureurong eureurong eureurong dae, eureurong eureu_ \- “i’m so sorry- what!?” he hisses to his side, turning away from his client.

“you just hung up on me! what was that!? i thought we were going to grab lunch, too--”  
“i’m busy right now, there was a line, and i’m heading in now so excuse me,” he ends the call abruptly. god, he can be a nuisance for real.

“i’m so sorry-” his cheeks warm then heat up even more when he realizes he hasn’t let go of johnny’s hand. there’s that cheeky grin donned on his face. sicheng wants to spontaneously melt like flesh eating sludge.

“it’s alright,” he says so nonchalantly as if his eyes didn’t single handedly sweep him off his feet from miles away (literally). “it happens,” he shrugs one last time, another gesture that makes his knees wobble. taking in his whole appearance, he would say that he indeed is the college town boyfriend that ten was referring to even with just plain jeans accompanied by a jacket with the same material makes him stand out. or maybe it’s his eyes tricking him from all the times he peers at him from around the corner. honestly, who knows. hopefully his client doesn’t.

“i hope you got all your papers,” he says pointing to the folder to which sicheng hastily shuffles through and nods sincerely, “yeah, they’re all in here. thank you,” sicheng says with a tiny smile.

“no need to thank me anymore, please. you’re making me feel like a hero,” johnny laughs, “hey, i forgot to introduce myself by the way. i’m johnny, i’m actually a grad here working on my masters in veterinary science. and your name…?” sicheng held back. he knew all this already like the back of his hand. knowing who he was protecting with his own life was vital especially when he’s totally not hard-crushing on them at the same time.

“oh. i’m-”  
“dong sasung? mr. goo will take you in now,” an assistant interrupted the brief meeting between the two of them before disappearing back into the office.

“dong sasung?” johnny repeated. sicheng gulped.

“ah, yeah. that’s me. i’m sasung, nice to meet you,” he bit his lip while his feet subconsciously took him little steps closer to where he needed to be. “i just transferred here to the pharmacy program and i’m meeting the dean…” he trailed off.

“pharmacy? dang, i was kind of hoping you’d be in veterinary science. man…” he said looking dejected. sicheng’s heart slightly crumpled at that.

“sasung? the dean is waiting,” the assistant’s head popped back out again. oops..

he reached the threshold and turned around to still see johnny standing there waiting for an additional response.

“how about lunch? we can meet up at the cafe by the library at two?” he spoke quickly, voice wavering for a positive affirmation.

“okay,” johnny smiled, dimple gently poking out, before turning to leave with what may have seemed like a kick in his step.

sicheng smiled warmly and entered the dean’s office.

-  
sicheng is sitting there agape. absolutely shocked.

“you-”

“why wouldn’t i have not? at least the part where i was being watched i knew, i guess i just pieced things together when you showed up in my life,” johnny said with a grin.

sicheng felt like living rigor mortis with his cover blown. they were out on a study “date,” much to sicheng’s fluttering heart, and after a kiss on the lips and confession, johnny spilled. he felt his cheeks heat up. _they kissed_ (en route to the cafe because.. yeah).

“don’t be too worried cutie, i still like you- and appreciate what you were meant to come here to do. i won’t stop you.. though i feel like it might have been the other way around with how everyone’s eyes tried to eat you up everytime we went out together,” johnny said with a subtle pout. it was so cute.

sicheng finally shook out of reverie and gulped, scooching over closer to johnny, “b-but- but how!? how did you know-” he sputtered looking into his eyes. he honestly never expected this to happen and the fact that he had never _ever_ been caught, made it an even more awkward of a confrontation. no one really told him what to do here. despite the coffee shop not being crammed to max capacity on a usual thursday, he feels even more conscious about his actions.

“it’s really not that hard--” he said as he stretched himself after the hours they were sitting glued to the cafe chairs, “like i said, i connected everything once i got to know more about you. though, i have to say that you’re really good at keeping a low profile and being consistent. you can consider yourself successful after this…” he says with a knowing smile.

sicheng swallowed leaving his mouth dry, “okay, well don’t get so cocky now suh youngho alright? this is the first time this has ever happened to me,” he squeaks defensively while picking up his pen to distract him. the latter only chuckles. and he might start to dislike the little teasing act that he’s known to do.

“okay babe,” he responds nonchalantly, glancing up one last time to catch sicheng turn red again. his heart has not been on its normal pace since they met up in the morning and now his fingers tremble slightly before setting the writing utensil down.

“wait.. so does this mean, we’re also official?” he asks hesitantly.

“only if you want it to be, sicheng,” johnny says in a low tone, reaching over to grab his hand in comfort. “yes! i do! i mean- yeah, of course,” he trips over his words a little too excitedly before squeezing johnny’s hand back. johnny laughs and pulls him closer to him, “then i’m glad. consider ourselves official boyfriends sicheng- or should i say sasung?”

johnny receives a harsh slap on the shoulder, crying out in pain as sicheng whines, “you’ve become insufferable,” he sighs a sigh that isn’t disappointed. johnny recovers only to giggle, “good to know,” he says.

just at the moment, the particular chime of the doorbell signaling a new patron catches his attention and he watches as ten makes his way over with a brown bag of bagels.  
“i was wondering where you were! _lovebirds_ ,” he cringes in feign disgust, “i brought some leftover bagels i had while i was out,” he continued, sitting down across from the duo.

“did they approve the next assignment? since this one is technically-”

“WAIT. WHAT,” sicheng gasped looking between ten and johnny.

“YOU- YOU KNEW? YOU KNEW HE KNEW? AND HE KNEW BECAUSE YOU TOLD HIM?” sicheng’s voice began to rise. he was going to pass out. what bothered him most was that none of them looked that much bothered.

“ehh, well he was onto something after that _one_ night you got tipsy and he approached me and i figured it would be time,” ten shrugged, opening his laptop on the table.

sicheng sat there with his mouth open. “baby, you’re going to catch flies like that,” johnny said using his finger to shut it close, “i’m sorry~”

ten gagged.

“so you knew for two months? and none of you told me!?” he was going hysterical now but johnny quickly calmed him down by wrapping his arms around him, “i just didn’t want to spoil it for you. besides, ten did really well while you kind of strayed from time to time, though you’re not to blame!”

sicheng could only groan and moan as he collapsed into his arms on the table. he suddenly sat up and then pointed an accusatory finger, “but you-!”

“meh, it’s all good now. boss knows and he can’t be evermore enthusiastic about recruiting him now, and, you’re one of our top agents so there’s nothing bad to moan about,” ten said cheekily while typing away on the report.

“this is awful,” he could only utter, pouting deeply. johnny cooed and ten rolled his eyes.

“don’t worry baby, at least you got me,” he said with a twinkle in his eyes. sicheng’s heart bounced back on its track again.

and maybe it was the way his eyes glittered when he looked at him.


	12. laps

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not exactly a drabble, but something i wrote through my feelings, written in february.

the things that have washed ashore his territory/domain range in a wide variety. it’s not surprising to find a plastic bottle of water in the morning and then the broken remnants of a beating of a green glass bottle at dusk.

they unfortunately taint the beauty of his life, though their industrialized dyes don’t do much damage to the pretty peach color of small beads. they instead embed themselves permanently into them, nestled soundly in the minuscule pieces of pulverized rocks. without a care in the world, they let themselves be consumed by lapping water and new layers.

he knows he can’t stop it all (unless he conveniently decides to decimate the entirety of the world’s population), so he chooses to let it grow; to overrun the clean beautiful reputation and pile on another without balance.

it creeps and crawls along the floors of his home and eventually grabs him by the ankle to jostle him to his senses. it’s only through a sigh of melancholy, does he remember he has lost his sense in the world.

when the purples blend and meld with the oranges on the horizon, waves that lap at the shore like a thirsty canine remind him of the solidarity that he’s dealing with. slender phalanges reach for the smallest pieces which have fallen off over a battered journey. they empathize with him when he turns it over in his hand and inevitably lets it fall away, back to where it soaks up the mood ring skies.

soft and dirty, the sands provide the barren surface that cushions him in times where comfort beckons. it’s his bed, and it’s obviously quite big enough to hold everything that the ocean encircles it with. he’s no longer alone when the wind that moves over the water tease him and the moon stays obscured behind the cumulus formations.

the last thing that crosses his compass before he shuts his eyes with a routine following the morning star is if he is happy here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just on an island all by himself, i kind of envisioned him to be a god but take this as you will


End file.
